


It's getting late, will you wait for me?

by KyrieFortune



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Ghosts, Grief/Mourning, Javert survives, Multi, Suicidal Thoughts, Translation from Italian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-27 14:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14427045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyrieFortune/pseuds/KyrieFortune
Summary: «Javert!».The figure standing on the balustrade turned his head with a motion barely noticeable, without any surprise of sort.Valjean, however, was indeed.All those years there have been numerous times where the inspector and the fugitive, like a prey stalked by a predator, have been dragged one by the other by destiny and nothing had truly changed, Valjean had kept on escaping and Javert has kept on following him, the only exception being the meeting by the barricades of what already was the day before.Javert is saved (but the price is high to pay).





	1. Rationality theorem

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Si è fatto tardi, mi aspetterai?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243680) by [macosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/macosa/pseuds/macosa). 



> NOTE 1: this is a translation, go support the original work in Italian! Yeah I know many don't speak Italian but the author deserves a lot of love https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243680/chapters/9602280  
> NOTE 2: this work containts themes like death and suicide, you might have guessed already
> 
> for my aibou aaaaaaaa you're vay too kind with me ;; pls dont sue me

« **J** avert!».

The figure standing on the balustrade turned his head with a motion barely noticeable, without any surprise of sort.

Valjean, however, was indeed.

All those years there have been numerous times where the Inspector and the fugitive, like a prey stalked by a predator, have been dragged one by the other by destiny and nothing had truly changed, Valjean had kept on escaping and Javert has kept on following him, the only exception being the meeting by the barricades of what already was the day before.

All things considered, it was but normal of Valjean to be confused. He had been since Javert left in silence after letting him say goodbye to Cosette one last time. His behaviour was too curious, he feared as well that it might have been a trick to further torment him and delay the arrest, and Valjean was swift in how he cleaned the sewer sludge off his coat and wrote a message to his still asleep daughter - “ _ Forgive me, we cannot meet ever again, but know that Marius is alive, he rests in his grandfather’s house at 6, Filles du Calvaire. I love you _ ” - before looking for the Inspector.

He walked and walked until he finally found Javert along the Seine, between Pont-au-Change and Pont-Nôtre-Dame, standing on the parapet, and his hat only was laid on the ground.

The idea that a man as stern as him, abiding by the law with such determination he might as well not be a man but rather a golem protecting Lady Justice herself, might have contemplated suicide was not an idea that ever crossed Valjean’s mind before that night.

The revelation hit him, it was as cold as the whirling waters below.

«Javert» he repeated at the Inspector who hadn’t yet answered «what are you doing?».

Javert emitted a dry sound, his laughter, Valjean understood a moment later, a joyless laughter.

«What do you think I’m doing, Valjean?».

At those words Valjean cut the distance that he had kept until then and quickly seized Javert’s ankle.

«Why?».

«Shouldn’t I be one asking» he said with a tired «why do you still chase after me?».

Valjean might have answered “ _ I _ am the one chasing after  _ you _ ?” if the situation were less absurd and if he were the kind of man that would answer with such sarcasm. Instead he replied «I surrendered, Javert. I am your prisoner» as a prayer to make him step down in the right direction. Valjean had known the human abyss that is despair and there were traces of it in his bitter enemy, and that unsettled him to no end.

Javert stayed silence for some moments, and finally he questioned «The boy, who was he?».

Valjean hesitated to answer to that individual who made his blood boil with hatred «Why would you want to know?».

«I just want to».

With that, he had to answer, anything to drag the Inspector out of the destiny he had cast upon himself. «He’s my daughter’s lover, Marius Portmercy».

«Your daughter» Javert replied «Cosette is her name, is it not?».

«Yes, it is».

«Have you kept your promise?».

«I have».

«As I thought» Javert sighed «Not that I needed any more reasons. Would you now please leave my ankle free, Monsieur».

Valjean’s dread grew more and more. «Why?» he repeated once again, now with a hysterical tone.

«You’re a free man, I have no right to arrest you. However, I have not got the right to be a man of justice if I let an outlaw free. For me, there is no other way».

«Javert» this time his plea was softer. Valjean took two deep breaths, then he shook his head.

«I know that it hurts».

This seemed to finally catch Javert’s attention.

«Living in doubt like this, it hurts» Valjean continued «But don’t do this to yourself, I beg you».

Javert was now gazing at him with the utmost attention, but did not show any intention of moving. Valjean sighed «If I let you go and step back a bit, would you accept my humble proposal of a talk over some tea at my home?».

«Perhaps» was the answer he got. Javert’s eyes were less harsh and thus Valjean did as he had said, he made one step back and offered him his hand to help him step down.

Javert, his bust slightly turned, had still his eyes on him.

Then he said «Forgive me, Valjean», and he fell forward.

Not even a moment later, Valjean climbed on the parapet and followed him.

 

*

 

Javert was alive.

Valjean realized that when he opened his eyes. The current had hit him as well with all of its violence, and he had swallowed quite the amount of water, but he had managed to seize Javert and with all the strength he had in him he had dragged him to safety.

After that, his memory was foggy, but he could assume he had collapsed on the ground and lost consciousness. As he woke up again, he had believed to have glimpsed a shadowy figure, Javert’s figure next to him, but when he fully picked himself up and stood up, falling on his knees when he coughed, he saw Javert in his same position a few steps away. He too was coughing and his body was all a shiver, but he was alive, and Valjean was so happy that suddenly his ailments were gone. The burn in his throat and the urge to cough were no more.

«Javert» he murmured «I’m glad that you are still alive».

Javert’s long hair was falling on his forehead and his expression was impossible to be seen. However, when he stopped coughing and he had his head lifted, moving his hair away with a hand, Valjean in his eyes was terror.

«No» he whispered.

«Javert» Valjean said again heartbroken.

«No, why this, Valjean?» Javert panted with growing hysteria.

«Javert, please» Valjean tried to speak, but Javert was apparently deaf to his words. «Please, do not hate me for having saved your life, it is important. This is truly a miracle. Please...» he repeated, while Javert shook frantically his head and grasped locks of hair as to tear them.

«No, no» he kept whining «why do I still live?».

Wishing to comfort him, Valjean extended a hand. But Javert, just as he had ignored his words, ignored his hand on his shoulder as well.

Was that the moment when Valjean lowered his look and noticed something was between them. It was the figure Valjean had seen and has mistaken for Javert’s lifeless body, yet Javert stood before him.

The figure was Valjean himself.

The man suddenly felt the energy drained off him. He left the shoulder of Javert he had never really touched and he fell with his head in his hands.

Javert in that moment began to scream.

That agony made Valjean lift his head and look at the tumid face of his drowned corpse and he had to accept that vision as true.

That time, yet another time of that fateful night, their positions were inverted. It was Javert who bowed his head on the body and shrill and it was Valjean who raises his head to the sky and silently prayed the stars, finally and tragically free.

 

*

 

He stayed with Javert, he who had screamed again and again with no one seemingly hearing him. He followed him when he decided to stand up and began to wander the streets like a ghost, uncaring of his still wet clothes. He continued to follow him when at dawnbreak he entered his apartment to change them (that was the first time Valjean had seen where Javert lived) and after some time, when he presented himself at the door of Rue de l’Homme Armé 7 and knocked on the door.

He could only watch with heart heavy as Cosette and Toussaint opened at the stranger, both had just woken up and clearly they were worried by the last message of Valjean that Cosette was clasping in her hand.

Javert must have looked like a spectral apparition to those poor women, as he told Cosette «Your father has died. I’m sorry» and that was one of the many moments Valjean wished with fervor someone would hear him, as he couldn’t comfort his daughter, while she let herself cry all of her tears at the feet of the Inspector.

Cosette questioned many things, many whys and Javert only gave her the place, the Seine river, and accompanied here at the point where a small crowd had gathered around his body and some policemen as well. Two people recognized the body: Cosette, who at the policemen’s questions could only answer with disconnected sobs shaking her dead father, and Javert, whom one of the officers recognized. Javert had never lied in his life, and Valjean couldn’t have expected he would have lied for him.

The cadaver would be buried under the name Ultime Fauchelevent. Valjean was free from the chains of life, yet his destiny was to keep the farce going on even in his tomb?

But that was the only solution, and Valjean was glad that Javert did it. His real name revealed would have dragged Cosette in disgrace and ruined any chance of marriage with Marius - now that Valjean was dead, he felt that keeping on hating that boy was useless, since he had teared himself off Cosette.

When the agent received Javert’s answer, he muttered something with his colleagues. When he turned around, Javert was gone. Cosette stayed by the corpse, after two elders had pulled her from it with force and they were now attempting to console her with condolences.

Although a boulder-like weight pressed on his soul for leaving his daughter behind, Jean Valjean, yet again, followed Javert. A dark foreboding caught him as he saw that man retained the attitude of before that made him look like the real ghost between the two, and he had to see with his eyes if he would have followed his intentions.

Valjean prayed for Javert.

He saw him enter his spartan apartment, he hadn’t got any objects he might have kept out of affection, not a precious thing of a bauble to decorate the furniture. Perhaps that was the reason of his absent expression, when he threw some books on the floor. He saw him directed to his dressing table to grab his razor.

«Javert...» Valjean understood his intentions well before he put the instrument, now frightening in his eyes, too close to his throat. His voice however didn’t reach Javert just as it didn’t reach him at the river.

Valjean thus got closer to the Inspector and put his hand on the one holding the razor, even if the previous attempt had been useless. Javert’s gaze was toward the empty air and his hand was film, but Valjean didn’t let the grip off him. «I beg of you, don’t do it» he whispered, Javert still immobile.

Suddenly his hand started to shake, and Valjean saw a tear roll down his rough profile, followed by many more, all from the eyes of the man he had deemed for years to be terror incarnate. For Valjean is was impossible to even imagine such eyes could be able to cry.

Javert let the razor fall in silence and Valjean as well let his arm fall on the side, still bewildered by such a vision. Still silent, Javert distanced himself from the dressing table, reached an angle of the room and there he curled himself against the wall and the knees to his chest. Only then he let a sound escape his throat, a sob, and Valjean could only witness powerless as Javert let himself go into a desperate cry.

A cry for him himself and a cry for Jean Valjean.

 

*

 

Javert had stayed in that position for a long time, and Valjean had stayed motionless staring at him. At one point, the Inspector had lowered his head and Valjean, getting closer to him, had noticed he had fallen asleep. Quite the uncomfortable position, but it couldn’t be helped, there was no way he could be woken up.

So Jean Valjean chose to leave the man at his rest (if one could really define that as “rest”) and awoke himself from his stagnation, wishing to know the whereabouts of his daughter, and so he discovered all he needed to appear in front of her was to wish for it.

He found her in no better conditions. Sitting at the table where she has dined with her father just until the night before, she read and reread the letter and kept on weeping. Toussaint rested on the wall not far away, silent and her expression grieved.

«Cosette...» Valjean whispered, unheard by the two women. Disheartened, he went outside the apartment and on the streets.

Walking has become odd. Closed doors could not halt him and the terrain under his feet could not be felt. It came to his mind that perhaps walking had become an outdated habit, as he did not need to open his mouth to talk, and if he truly wished for it he could have sunk to the core of the heart, or rise to the heavens and touch them, however in that melancholic moment he only wanted to be as anchored as possible to Earth, his only certainty when everything else was a source of great despondency.

Jean Valjean was examining his situation and yes he was lost. He had prepared himself to a possible sudden death at the barricades and had abandoned the hopes of a long life when he had surrendered to Javert, however his actual death on the Seine had him confused. A moment before, he was talking to Javert, a moment before he had felt the hard and cold impact of water on him, and a moment later no one could hear his voice nor his touch. He might have asserted that he was feeling just the same as before, but that wasn’t true: his senses were muffled, every time he had laid his hand on something he only felt an echo of touch and - as we’ve already highlighted - the physics of this world did not tie him down anymore. He knew he was not breathing, yet it seemed to him that he was doing it anyway.

More than anything else, he felt alone.

Emotions and reason, he still kept them. Reason itself was why he was considering the whole situation irrational. After all, rationality was a law of the living, it was only another habit he ought to lose. The thought frightened him, though. What was he supposed to do, now? Wander like that for all eternity? Was that the beyond?

He collected his thoughts, as he would have done in any other moment of doubt, and he felt something deep in his soul. Warmth, a light. Nostalgia. For what? He pondered and pondered and he realized he had been experiencing it since the first moment he had stared on his body, but he did not pay attention to it until that moment, as his mind was occupied by more compelling thoughts.

But now that he had noticed that sentiment, suddenly he found himself unable to ignore it. What, then it was?

«Good morning».

Valjean startled, his line of thought interrupted, especially since he was not expecting to be seen by someone anymore.

At first sight, he understood the person was in his same situation. It was the first time he encountered another phantom, or however you prefer them to be called, like him. Until then, he had felt like the last man on Earth; later, he would have laughed at such a foolish presumption.

The gentleman who had greeted him in the alley lighted up and after a short while he disappeared.

Valjean understood. So, there was a place where he could go after. How to reach it, perhaps wishing for it was all he needed.

However, Valjean did not wish to reach the after, not then, he could not let his daughter nor his maid in such a situation. Nor he could leave Javert - so bizarre and painful together it was, to think that man had cried for him. No, he couldn’t have found peace until Javert would heal, and until Cosette would get married.

«I wonder...».

He did not know to whom he was talking. He joined his hands together.

«May I remain here a bit longer?».

When he heard a voice answer him, he did not need to look around for other departed souls, as it echoed inside him.

A woman’s voice. Fantine’s.

Valjean would have cried even if he were so shaken that he couldn’t have cried. A part of him wondered if his tears would fall and crash the ground.

«Fantine» he uttered the name with a broken voice. The voice inside him replied back.

«My dear  _ Monsieur _ ».

«Fantine» he said again with a sketched smile «your girl has grown up, have you seen? Have I been a good father?».

«The best Cosette would have wanted to have. You have my eternal gratitude».

Valjean shook his head, too stunned to further talk. It took him a few seconds to calm himself down and finally collect his own thoughts, the ones that the voice and not his vocal chords were expressing.

«I cannot leave her like this, Fantine» he said «I… I know that I can do no more for her, but still, I wish to stay by her side».

«I understand» she replied «I did the same when I have died».

Valjean jumped in surprise.

«Really?»

«Yes, I really have. Neither you nor Cosette could see me, naturally, but for a couple of years I have been with you. I wished to see with my own eyes how she was growing up and I left when to me it was clear that she was going to be happy».

Valjean had no words to form an answer with, only another smile. Knowing that Fantine had been by his side, the woman whom he had the greatest debt to, was now giving him the impression that he might have not spent alone his first moments with Cosette, in particular the one before the monastery, the ones where the most he had found himself with doubts or fear.

«When you’ll be ready, you’ll reach us,  _ Monsieur _ . Do not worry: this is where your home is».

«Thank you, Fantine». A “thank you” for everything.

He never heard again the voice of that courageous woman, but later on he found himself to think how charming it had been to hear her so crystal clear, and how the conversation with her brought him back to everyday life with less anguish than before.

 

*

 

The following day, Jean Valjean witnessed a curious scene.

Someone had knocked on the door of the number 7 house and Cosette, bracing up as she could, went to open herself the door to not disturb Toussaint.

«Good morning...» she said with evident embarrassment when in front of her Javert showed up, and Valjean was just as surprised to see him.

The inspector only came to know the date of the funerals of “Fauchelevent”, and this, with even further embarrassment, saddened Cosette more than she already was (to Valjean it seemed that she eyed up Javert with suspicion too). She told him how it had been arranged, that the funeral would be taking place this very day.

When Javert took his leave, Toussaint asked if by chance, before the function, Cosette wanted to pay Marius a visit.

She shook her head and answered «Tomorrow. I would only be a hindrance, today».

So, Valjean attended his own funeral. It was one of the strangest and most tragic experiences that ever happened to him. Imagine, if you could, to see for yourself, unable to utter a word or prove our presence, your loved ones mourning your death, as you stand right next to them.

The only ones who were present, as we’ve said previous they were Cosette, Toussaint and Javert, did not change their manners: the two women sobbed inconsolably, Javert might have been mistaken for a statue. But Valjean treasured the memory - how could he ever forget it - of warm tears streaming from ice-cold eyes.

When the coffin was buried, the three figures stood in front of the grave that only displayed the letter F. «What a vile liar, am I. What a foolish man» Valjean thought.

When it was time to part ways, Cosette and Javert shook hands.

«You’re running a fever!» she exclaimed.

«I am doing fine» he answered, and yet the next step he collapsed.

That same day, Javert fell ill.


	2. The definition of egotism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we dont betaread, we get punched in the faces like men
> 
> sorry for the delay

**C** osette and Toussaint were told the address of Javert’s apartment and accompanied him on carriage to his very house’s interior. Cosette forced him to lay down on the bed.

«I am doing fine» he repeated and repeated, but his voice was feeble and his eyes wandered aimlessly  and did not stare at any specific spot around him.

Toussaint left the room in a rush and went to look for a doctor. While she waited, Cosette carefully stared at the Inspector - could it be that she was inspecting him? - and she dared to touch one hand of his. After all that she had found herself to do (even support his body to his house), her shyness was curious and sweet. If Javert had noticed her attempt at a caress, he did not let it know.

«I do not know you, but you are an odd man» she told him. Then she exclaimed with a scolding tone «Why have you borne all of this without telling it to somebody?».

Valjean laughed - a new sensation, it looked like to him, but not unpleasant - at his daughter’s words, remembering the time of Montreuil-sur-Mer, when Javert reported to him even after being beaten up and clobbered by lowlives, and the memory created some kind of tenderness in him.

He craved for the opportunity to lay his own hand on the others’, if only he could be able to comfort them!

Javert replied to her reprimands «My health was in very good shape this morning as well», which made Cosette frown.

Valjean knew the Inspector had slept curled on the floor, and just this uncomfortable position could have only meant his shape would have been anything but “very good” the following morning; this made him frown as well. Was it possible that he was avoiding Cosette? The confirmation of his conjecture came with the following words from the Inspector.

«Your worries should be for your betrothed, now for me».

Cosette opened her eyes wide, visibly surprised at the revelation that Javert knew about Marius and Valjean felt the weight of the world crumble upon him. It was impossible that Javert let that knowledge of his slip by simple mistake; he must have known that such a thing would have look shady in the eyes of Cosette and Valjean could not understand the motive behind this.

His daughter tried to formulate a response «But you...».

But right in that moment, Toussaint came back accompanied by two men.

While the first one of them, obviously the physician, dashed toward Javert to examine his health conditions despite one last protest of “I’m doing  _ fine _ ”, the second introduced himself to Cosette as the landlord of Javert’s apartment.

«Do you know this man?» he asked her. Cosette shook her head, but Valjean could see the quick glance she threw at Javert.

«No, yesterday was the first time I have met him».

«And you do not know what he’s done yesterday?» the doctor interrupted her «I do not comprehend how could he run such a high fever in just one day!».

Cosette again shook her head and, after a moment of silence, broken only by a grumble of a very upset Javert seeing so many unwanted people in his personal space, the doctor sighed.

«It might be better if you leave us both alone».

So, a gloomy Cosette finally decided to take her leave.

The landlord, a friendly chubby man by the name Blanchard, assured her to not worry as he would take care of Javert and be sure he’d follow the medic’s provisions.

«In any case, Monsieur l’Inspecteur is a very stern man, you know, so he’ll surely follow everything by the book and will recuperate in the blink of an eye! I’ve known this man for many years and there was never a time he would not heal from illness or wounds. Do not worry, I will soon check his workplace and tell his fellow colleagues that he’s sick for the time being» he told her, catching his breath a too small number of times.

Javert emitted another grunt.

«There is no one in the police force who cares about me».

«Oh, what foolishness! What would this city do, without Inspector Javert?».

The doctor had to throw him an exasperated glance so that Blanchard decided to leave the room.

Valjean found himself not knowing what to do. He chose to follow his daughter to the doorstep and come back in, as the curiosity to know what the medic had to said about Javert’s conditions.

He saw his beloved daughter and his servant heading their way home. Night was falling. The last thing he heard from Cosette before she entered the carriage was «Tomorrow, I’ll pay Marius a visit» and at this Valjean had to admit he felt repugnance, although he had tried to convince himself that hating the Portmency boy had no meaning anymore.

He chastised himself if only in thought: Marius was the only person left to Cosette and he, a foolish father only able to watch his daughter mourning who didn’t even properly bid her goodbye, simply had to swallow his loathing, so useless in death, and let the life of Cosette and that youth go on without his intervention. It was only for the best of them both.

He stayed with Javert, despite way of thinking  still so “alive” registered his stay in that room after the doctor had sent away everyone else as a serious lack of manners. He was distressed, but he forced himself to remain next to the bed where Javert laid, while the doctor examined him more accurately. After what he had witnessed the night before - the vulnerability of an utterly devastated man - he convinced himself he would have been a hypocrite to care more about modesty in that moment.

Despite having told himself this, he felt shameful and turned his head away when the physician made Javert disrobe completely. However, he could not avoid to catch something with the corner of the eye. A sentiment had brought him there, an almost unconscious desire to see, after all those years, what was hidden under the long coat.

No blood run in his veins, he knew that, but still he had the clear feeling of having his face turn red and this, somewhat later, would have bring back the memory of this moment many times.

«Please, would you tell me what have you done yesterday or the last few days or not?».

Javert grinned, albeit weakly.

«I’m a police officer, what do you believe I have done? I was at the barricades».

The doctor accepted the explanation.

«Could it be, some of the rebels have infected you? And tell me, have they hit you?».

«No, they haven’t».

«Then, I cannot explain why this side of your body has these contusions. It is a miracle that none of your bones is broken. Do you want to tell me you have felt no pain at all?».

To Valjean’s mind came back the attitude of Javert at Montreuil, but this time only sadness came out of the memory.

«Javert» he lamented, covering his eyes with a hand «If I think that you’ve slept on the floor…!».

The medic said nothing else, perhaps deciding to not further investigate on the matter for the time being. It was a relief for Valjean, when the doctor ordered Javert to get himself dressed and to put himself under the blankets.

«Rest, for now, I’ll tell the landlord everything that it’s needed to be done».

Javert addressed a last grumble, then, wanting to obey to the orders of the doctor or of his own body, he closed his eyes.

Valjean follow the medic with his eyes as the man left the room, then he gazed at Javert, so exhausted that he already looked on the verge of falling asleep, and moved his hand toward him, not sure himself of the reason behind the gesture. Did he want to give him a caress, like the one he’d given to Cosette a few minutes before? He shooed the thought away, again feeling shame. In any case, the other wouldn’t have felt it; this saddened him. 

«Make sure he eats well» the doctor had told to Monsieur Blanchard, then Valjean walked out of the room through the wall.

Then, both men were gone, the first for his duty was for the moment over and second for most likely other tasks. Valjean was not worried: it was likely both men, the landlord in particular, would come back later. After all, Javert had to eat. However, the Inspector had been left alone, so he decided to come back to keep an eye on him - as worthless his supervision was - a bit longer.

Found himself next to the bed again, he did not know what he could do.

Javert’s eyes were closed, but his lips were twisted in a grimace of pain. A short while after, he opened his eyes wide and Valjean realised he had got no rest.

«Are you hurt somewhere?» Valjean inquired, even knowing that his interlocutor would not hear him. He however felt that resign to not speak up would have only made him sink in anguish again.

He recalled how Fantine had told him that she had been with him after her death. He imagined the poor woman with a child Cosette unable to see nor hear her and he bitterly laughed.

«Surely, if I now decided to walk away and go where I’m meant to go, I would feel no more sadness» he told himself out loud, as it made no difference. Fantine’s voice had sounded so joyous and with no troubles in the whole world… «But, I guess, this is what you call “the price to pay”. The more you are bounded to earthly matters, the more you suffer, is it not right? But this is a price I will gladly pay, if I must».

«Come on!» a sudden voice spurted from within him «You always take everything as some sort of personal sacrifice!».

Valjean lifted his head in an instant and exclaimed «Fauchelevent!».

«Yours truly. I did not stay behind, so perhaps I do not understand well what you are feeling, but I expected you to take this as a penitence. Even if now I know you by another name, let me tell you this, this is just like you,  _ Monsieur  _ Madeleine!».

Valjean nodded with a weak smile «You haven’t changed as well, Fauchelevent».

«Aye aye. Listen, that’s how things work» the voice continued «some people have to stay on Earth to atone for their sins, but you have nothing that it needs to be forgiven, so if you remain down there it’s only because you wish to».

«But I wish to do this, my friend» Valjean began to answer, but at that moment he heard a groan coming from Javert. The Inspector was lying still, but he was wide awake. He had his forehead covered by one of his arms and his eyes were staring at the ceiling, but they seemed to be looking at something that was beyond.

«Maybe» he said with the faintest voice. Valjean stepped forward with attentive hearing.

«Maybe, this time, I will be granted death».

After those words not a soul spoke for minutes.

Valjean knelt next to the bed, his hands joined as in prayer to cease the suffering on that man whom he had never see suffer so atrociously. «Fauchelevent» he then said «You have said I have nothing to atone, but I realize this is not the case».

Fauchelevent replied with a sigh from deep within «You have done nothing wrong. But I could repeat it a hundred times and you still wouldn’t believe me, would you?».

This, despite everything that had been happening, managed to get a bitter laughter out of Valjean. «Yes, you are right, you may try all you want, but I cannot stop feeling such a responsibility toward him, even only a bit».

«I imagine. Oh well» the voice continued «I can only wish you to find some satisfaction in your permanence down there. So, goodbye. I’m glad I had been your brother».

«You call me such and even laud me after knowing who I am?» Valjean asked with a light shaking. He smiled «Goodbye, my brother».

He then stood up and addressed Javert «You will live. I have survived for nineteen years  the Hell that was Tolone, and you will survive a fever». These words were in truth an attempt to convince himself of this. Actually, if Javert were to die of that illness, Jean Valjean would have never forgiven himself for that. Would have he then traversed the Earth as an act of penitence for the rest of the infinite?

 

*

 

When he assured himself that Javert had eaten, Valjean went back to the apartment in Rue de l’Homme Armé and found a pensive Cosette. From some fragments of the conversation she was having with Toussaint, he understood what was the problem that had surfaced for the two women: money.

«Undoubtedly» Cosette was wondering «my father was saving some spare coin in his case, the one he never separated from».

Valjean did have some money saved in a drawer, and those were Cosette’s as well. The few others were sewn in the inner side of his jacket. Inside the case there was no money, but there was something just as precious.

«I don’t know where the key to open it is, anyway».

Valjean had a surge of relief. He had always kept the key on him. If they had not found it on his body, then most likely it had sunk forever on the bottom of the river, together with his life. The acceptation of the dead Fantine and Fauchelevent did not however made him dread any less the idea of his alive daughter finding out his most pathetic secrets.

«If you well check the jacket you will discover there is some money sewn inside it, and then you will muse “Dad was such a bizarre man” and won’t be bothered by it anymore. But the case… please, not the case...».

Ten minutes passed in silence with no one in the small house speaking up.

Then Cosette said out loud «I have to work» and immediately after that «Toussaint, if you wish, you can leave».

For Toussaint’s throat came a throttled sound, as the woman launched herself at the girl’s feet. Valjean watched the scene with eyes wide open. What were Cosette’s intentions?

«But  _ Mademoiselle _ ! Where will I go?» the maid cried out, grasping Cosette’s sleeve.

«To someone who can pay you better than how I could» Cosette seemed to be resolute, but it was evident she was attempting to hide the shaking in her voice.

«B-but Master surely had left something...».

«Toussaint» Cosette interrupted her «I cannot use that money».

Jean Valjean got irritated.

«Don’t be foolish!» he exclaimed «For whom else I could have saved all that money but you? And why would you not want to use it, in the name of what? You will not reduce yourself into poverty when-».

A sudden thought crossed his mind - the patrimony of Madeleine! Only he knew where that treasure was buried. Were he alive, he could have given all that money to Cosette as dowry, but it was now lost forever.

«I’m a fool myself… oh, if only I knew I were to die!».

Was then Cosette destined to a miserable marriage and life? If that Marius boy truly had loved her, he would have married her either way, but if he would have not… Valjean couldn’t let himself rejoice now, Cosette would have been unhappy.

After all, maybe Cosette’s thought wasn’t all that wrong. If she had started to work and limited expenses, maybe she could live well off even without the capital Valjean had kept for her.

It was a big shame, but nothing else could be done. 

«I will stay here» Cosette was explaining to Toussaint «I will cancel the rent on the other two house. A bit earlier, the porter let me know he’s ready to lower the rent for this apartment, but I don’t want to be pitied by him. I cannot force you to such a way of living».

« _ Mademoiselle _ » the old woman babbled «Had the Master not taken me in, I could have ended up in a hospice. I am too much of an elder and no one would accomodate me Let me stay here, whatever life I can lead now cannot be worse than the one I had before».

Cosette stared attentively «Are you sure?».

«Oh yes!» Toussaint nodded vigorously «And besides, I really wish to see you married and well-off. To me you are like a daughter!».

Cosette smiled at her «Thank you, Toussaint».

«But promise me one thing» she resumed «Take all the time you want, but promise you will use your father’s money. I will help you find it, it must be somewhere in this house, beside the coins in the drawer. Even if it might not be much, please use it. Your father would have wanted this».

«Thank you, Toussaint» Valjean echoed.

 

*

 

Valjean discovered something, that night: he could sleep.

He stayed at Cosette like the night before. Sitting on an empty chair, he thought «What if I slept?».

His sleep however was dreamless - it was weird, as if he were conscious during the sleep and could decide to wake up anytime he wanted - and gave him no rest, it only let the time feel like it went on faster.

When he woke up, it was still dark.

He went for a walk. It occurred to him to catch glimpses of fleeting shadows, other ghosts he recognized them as. He was not alone.

He found himself at the Luxembourg Gardens. His old habits brought him there, and it was melancholic to be there without Cosette, but he was curious too to find out what he could have seen at such a late hour.

The gardens seemed silent and motionless, even fake, in the pitch black of the night, to the point Valjean thought he was dreaming, more than he did before going for a walk.

He went back and forth for a while, lost in thought. Then he looked hard and saw a figure crouching on one of the benches. As he got closer, he discovered the figure was actually two smaller ones: two homeless kids just a few years old.

Valjean felt pity at that image, but they were alive and he was not. He could only observed them, but an old instinct made him draw closer to try and touch their little heads.

«Shhh!».

That sudden sound, coming from behind him, made him jump. When he turned, he saw a known face staring back at him with a surly expression.

«Hey, I know they can’t hear us, but don’t wake ‘em up! They’re tired a lot and need to rest».

Valjean spoke to him with the quietest voice he could manage «Are you the child at the barricades?».

The kid drew out the smile of a true rascal «What did ye say? I’m a bit deaf, sorry, old age».

Valjean smiled back at him. Both stepped back, the child never drawing his eyes away from the bench.

«Were you at the barricade in Rue de la Chanvrerie?».

«Aye, and I remember you being there. I’m Gavroche».

«Gavroche» Valjean repeated; that name turned into a moved wheeze «You have been very brave, you know?».

Gavroche rubbed his hands «Oh, you were too! Fighting at your age, I mean».

He sat on the ground and Valjean followed him. The child was cheerful and there were no traces of blood on his face.

«To be fair, I haven’t fought much» Valjean admitted.

«No, but I saw you save that guy, that Marius! I had a debt with him, so I was happy. But tell, are you dead?».

«I haven’t died immediately. Marius is still alive».

«Good for him» Gavroche commented and didn’t try to prey further on the issue, and instead began to talk about his own business «I felt bad, you know? When the barricade fell down. But when I woke up I decided to check where these two were at» he pointed at the sleeping kids.

«Are they your little brothers?» Valjean inquired. Gavroche laughed «Aye, but I didn’t know that when I was alive, my sis Eponine told me. We met by chance but the two bumpheads run away and I did not find them again».

Valjean turned his eyes toward the little ones and dared laughing with Gavroche «They are lucky, to have their big brother looking after them».

«Oh, it isn’t like I can’t do anything about it» Gavroche replied with a shrug.

«I am sure they appreciate it».

Gavroche shrugged again «What do a’ know? I have little alternatives anyway». When he saw the lost and troubled expression that surely had arisen on Valjean’s face (since he had recalled Fauchelevent’s words, “Some people have to stay on Earth to atone for their sins”) Gavroche’s laughter bursted even louder «Of, don’t worry! I can leave this world, but that’s boring! ‘I’ll leave when I’ll leave. And I don’t want to see dad and sis Azelma are up to, mom can deal with them. I don’t like seeing my dad».

He sighed. For a moment, in front of that face a shadow of sadness passed «I can only stay and watch and scold them if they have the brilliant idea of starving, “I fought for you, you ungrateful kids” I’d say, if that happens».

By then the sky was clearing up and the dawn was getting closer and closer. Valjean looked back at the bench. «All of this brought you to your death» he said «Would you do it again?».

The boy’s answer didn’t made itself wait «Of course? And you? Don’t tell me you have regrets!».

As Gavroche has surely seen the barricade before giving his answer, Jean Valjean saw again Javert on the railing, the swirling waters engulfing him, Javert alive, coughing and despairing but with all of life’s strength in his scream, Javert crying crouched on the ground, Javert naked as the doctor visited him, Javert as a human.

«I do have some regrets, Gavroche» he admitted with a tremor, and with his selfishness and the anguish he had caused, Madeleine’s inheritance also came to mind, destined to be forgotten underground. «But I would do it again» he finally decided «I would jump again».

Gavroche didn’t investigate on what he had meant by “jump”.

The first light of the day were peeping on the gardens and it seemed like that mysterious place made out of dreams was about to come to life anytime.

It was time to leave it to the living.

«I must go» Valjean said as he stood up «Excuse me if I’ve wasted your time».

«No problem, it’s not like I had anything better to do» Gavroche replied.

Valjean smiled at him «Good luck to you and your brothers».

«Do you have any brothers?» Gavroche asked and stared at him for once.

«I used to» Valjean answered, and although he was ready to leave the gardens, he remained and admired the sunrise.

 

*

 

A few hours later, Cosette went to see Marius, by foot so she could save money from the carriage.

Valjean did not follow her immediately, but i the end he decided to see with his own eyes in which state was the young man in.

He was still unconscious, and Cosette and Toussaint joined forces with the housemaids to produce more gauzes. Cosette was crying, and seeing her like this provoked a great sadness in Valjean, because he knew that her sorrow was sharpened by the loss of a parent. Poor child, so young and already so lost.

Valjean thought of Fantine, shivered, and right after he thought of how the poor mother had fought against poverty to the bitter end. Cosette would be doing the same, she wouldn’t be easily dragged down by desperation, of this Valjean was sure. He equally did not want to see her end in the same situation as her mother’s, and prayed that such a thing would never happen.

From bits of the conversation Cosette, among the tears, was able to have with the maids, Valjean understood that his daughter had already suggested to carry out some tasks for Marius’ grandfather,  _ Monsieur  _ Gillenormand, for some coin. He then realized his daughter’s hardship: the day before she had announced she would start working, but it was also true that the mourning and apprehension still roamed her mind, and without a doubt the young one had to take great effort in managing all those straining situations and the sudden lack of economic sustenance.

«Even if you can still use my money» Valjean couldn’t resist saying with a tone of reprimand «you could sell my candelabra». The idea raised a certain sadness, but those two so precious to him items did not belong to him anymore.

From the remaining words one of the servants and Cosette exchanged, he also understood how the house patriarch had taken the news of her being a orphan.

«But really» the servant was saying, a dark-haired girl with her nose pointing upwards giving her a confident look «you’ve heard what the master told you, “I see you truly love my grandson, and undoubtedly he will marry you even if you are not wealthy, and I cannot blame you for it and the disgraces that have befallen you”, did he not? He told you he already considers you as a granddaughter of his and is willing to cover all your expenses».

Cosette still was weeping «No - I do not want you to pity me».

«What pity» the maid reiterated, wrinkling her nose «You’re working and it’s normal that he gives you a pay, isn’t it?».

«I don’t want him to pay me for Marius’ life!».

«Alright, let’s do this then: when we’re done making bandages - we are creating too many of them anyway - if the master agrees, you can clean the house a bit in my place. I won’t mind if I get a lower pay because of this».

This calmed Cosette, although at the last sentence her mouth twisted; she couldn’t really escape the impression she moved people’s pity regardless of how much she tried not to cause that.

Valjean forced himself to stay in that house for as long as he could, looking over his daughter working for her future husband. As the sun set, he decided to check Javert’s situation.

He found his, of course, still laying on the bed, and the doctor who had visited him the day before was next to him. He had likely just finished the daily examination, since the next moment he was wearing again his jacket and his hat and had begun discussing with the chubby landlord, whose balding head was peeping from the room’s door.

Valjean was glad he came late and did not get to witness another scene he did not want to watch. The memory brought a new wave of embarrassing, but it dissipated as soon as his eyes wandered from the ill man to the worried expression of the two men talking about him. He drew closer to eavesdrop.

«Yes, he is following the treatment as ordered, but his state of mind is what I fear for. It seems like he has given up» the doctor explained. The other man turned pale «Preposterous! I have known him for many years and never I saw him lose hope».

Both looked at Javert, and so did Valjean. The Inspector was still and looking at them with the corner of the eye. «He knows what they are talking about and has accepted his fate» Valjean sadly thought. He recalled the words he hear the other man utter the previous day, «Maybe, this time, I will be granted death» - he didn’t merely remember them, they had been branded in his mind.

«Javert» he murmured «How is it possible that we never agree, you and I?».

He still believed Javert’s successful rescuing was akin to a miracle, but it was clear the Inspector preferred a different fate. Was it him, Valjean, egotistically, at fault when he had followed him in his leap of death? But the thought of how it could have played out all differently, if only Valjean had stayed home that night, was daunting. Would the role of ghost silently watching other people’s life have been given to Javert? What would have happened to Valjean? He would have surely seen his daughter get married and have no economic issue, but after that?

Perhaps, the whole ‘’haunting’’ side of the story was lived only by the living. Valjean knew by then what existed after death, beyond the door the living dreaded to look into. To a still living Javert those secrets were forbidden to know and thus, he languished in the uncertainty of the future and guilt and this is why he yearned for death.  

Guilt. It still was bizarre, to think such a iron-hearted man would feel guilt over the death of the inmate he had wanted to catch for so long.

Valjean still remembered what Javert had told him that fateful night. He had let him know of his internal turmoil in few words and even if Valjean himself had experience the same emotions, he couldn’t tell yet he fully understood where such a change of heart would lead. Who knew, perhaps Javert himself wasn’t yet aware himself of any of this. Adding to all of these considerations that had brought him between the two bridges there also was the gnawing terror that if he hadn’t jumped, Valjean wouldn’t have followed him.

We wish to specify: Valjean would have never blamed him for his death. The dear reader had already the chance to witness how he was more of the inclination of self-blaming instead. Fauchelevent would have asserted no one was to blame and that it was to be accepted it only was a misfortunate chance.

But, let us go back on the story. Despite witnessing his sorrows, Valjean wanted desperately and fiercely Javert to keep on living. He couldn’t bear that sight: he, next to the river, dead or alive it did not matter. It was not fair.

«Am I an egoist for thinking this...?».

He wished he knew what Javert thought of him, how his perception of the man called Jean Valjean had changed. His perception of Javert was changing every second passing by, but his mind, as honest as it was, was still hard to decipher; this was Valjean pondering, as another head peeked from the ajar door.

«May I?» the man asked.

With his presence, it was like every man in the room, Javert included, had awoken from a melancholic torpor. Blanchard immediately sprinted to open the door, the doctor’s face took on a surprised look and Javert even tried to stand up. The voice of the man who had just entered stopped him «Don’t force yourself, Inspector». Valjean was the only one who hadn’t recognized that individual, but guessing his identity wasn’t a difficult task.

The elder with prominent moustaches had an aura of authority surrounding him which would have drawn any man’s eyes lower in respect, even if in that moment he was not wearing his uniform and medals and he had an informality with Javert that suggested a higher rank compared to him. Valjean had to contain the frenzy that used to awaken in the presence of members of the police force. The man had a light in his eyes that it wasn’t hard to imagine as scary, but it would no more harm him.

« _ Monsieur _ Chabouilett» Javert greeted him.

« _ Monsieur le Secretaire _ !» Blanchard greeted him as well «Has my letter inconvenienced you? It was not my intention».

«Non your letter» he answered, pointed at Javert and smiled «but his».

The other two men looked at him puzzles, but Chabouillet asked them to leave «I want to talk him in private, please, don’t disturb me». Valjean felt the familiar discomfort that took him whenever he was about to assist to a scene he shouldn’t have stuck his nose in.

As Chabouillet drew closer to him sitting of a chair, while Blanchard followed by the physician left the room, Javert looked elsewhere.

«I did not intend to bring annoyance to the Secretary of the Prefect».

«No annoyance, but the Secretary of the Prefect would like Inspector Javert to die before his retirement. Think you can do that, aye?» Chabouillet asked with a laughter. Valjean hypothesized the two men had known each other for quite the time.

Chabouillet’s laughter vanished when Javert answered with curt sincerity «No». The Secretary worried «Hoy, Javert, what has been going on? I gave a glance to the letter you’ve written the night of June the seventh, then I have heard no more from you and now I hear you’re bedridden!».

Javert showed a grimace bending his lips, a weird, creepy smile.

«And what have you thought of my letter?».

A handful of seconds passed before Chabouillet answered «I have thought I have never seen you or heard you disclose such concerns over the state of being of prisoners».

Javert’s smile became wider and terrible «Have you believed it was an act of insubordination?». 

Chabouillet sighed «I was worried, but I’ll be honest, Inspector,  _ Monsieur le Prefet _ did not like that letter».

That time, Javert even laughed.  Something in that laughter felt of fever delirium, and Valjean couldn’t help but worry too. «I’m Inspector no more» he wheezed «it was supposed to be my letter of resignation».

«Resignation?» the astounded Secretary repeated «What are you talking about, Javert?».

Javert ceased to chuckled and stared at him with absolute gravity «I meant to give my resignation to God».

No one dared to breath. Valjean felt his hair rising, impossible to happen but the sensation was the same as Chabouillet who could but stare speechless at Javert. After some seconds, the elder man managed to inquire «Has something happened at the barricades?».

«Yes, it has» was all that Javert replied. 

Before talking again, Chabouillet was shaken by a deep sigh and the man passed a hand on his forehead where cold sweat likely was collecting.

«Could you give me some details?».

Again, that wretched smile was on distorted Javert’s face, his lips showing his gums and his eyes like out of their orbits distorted him until he looked like a grinning caged tiger.

«I killed a man».

The visage of  _ Monsieur  _ Chabouillet, Secretary of the Prefect of the Paris Police, who had surely heard and seen many horrible events in al the years before that had left his hair white as snow, lost all of its colour. He must have known Javert very well, and he must have comprehended how serious such a confession was.

«After the insurrection?»

«Yes, Javert again said laconically. Chabouillet sighed yet again, perhaps his lungs could breathe normally once again. «Javert, I’m trying to understand, please tell me everything that has happened».

Javert was smiling no more. His traits slowly turned into a face of grief «Do you remember how I’ve described my work during the uprising,  _ Monsieur _ ? I’ve written how one of the rebels spared my life and let me escape after my identity was discovered».

«Go on» Chabouillet’s voice was barely hearable.

«The man who let me go was Jean Valjean. Do you remember this name?».

«It does sound familiar».

Javert glared in such a way that if his pupils had been pins they would have pricked Chabouillet. «He was the inmate who violated the parole sentence and became the mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer».

«Oh».

«I’ve met him again at the exit of the sewers on the long-Seine, he was carrying one of the students - his daughter’s lover, he told me later - and prayed me to help me carry the boy. He was intending on turning himself in to me, but I walked away when I could have arrested him».

He paused and gulped.

«I couldn’t have possibly arrested him, I thought I would be committing some injustice. I saw him act good risking his own life, and suddenly all the acts of charity he played as Madeleine had a new light on them, how could I have punished him for a crime he had committed a long time ago or his second escape only motivated by more good deeds? Truth was in front of me: Valjean was a different man, arresting him would have meant breaking the justice of God himself, only then I was able to see such the abyss. Yet, I couldn’t miss my duty as an officer or I would have broken the justice of Man, my constant in fifty years of existence».

There was another pause, where Javert began to breathe with more trouble.

«I do not know if you have experienced the sensation of all your pillars of certitude and reasons to live crumble down, and I pray you will never experience such a thing».

Valjean’s heart seemed like it clenched with sorrow. Two images overlapped in front of him: Javert on the rampart, and the bishop Myriel entrusting his silver candelabra to an undeserving man…

«Whether as an officer or as a man, I would have missed my duties» Javert continued hysterical «I wrote that letter and took the only possible way out, drowning myself in the Seine». He paused once again, perhaps to catch his breath or to wait for a comment from Chabouillet. When it was clear no comment was to be said, he continued with the narration. 

«I was standing on the rampart between Pont-Nôtre-Dame and Pont-au-Change, with all the intention of falling in the river. But imagine, who came to protest my decision?».

Chabouillet hesitated for a moment. «Jean Valjean?» he hazarded to ask.

«Exactly» Javert answered with sombre voice «He attempted to change my mind… could you believe it, he wanted to invite me to his home for a drink! Me! His enemy! But I paid no attention to him, I launched myself forward and - I had no idea he plunged himself too with me. When I opened my eyes, I was alive, but he… he...».

His voice broke into a sob, he brought a hand to the lips and new tears streamed from his eyes. Chabouillet stayed silent while Javert let himself be overcome by that weakness, but when Valjean, disheartened, looked from a reaction from him, on his face he saw anguish being painted on.

«I ask myself» Javert continued panting «if he might be watching me now. After what I have seen with my own eyes I doubt it would be possible, but perhaps even he now hates me, after I have killed him with no intention of doing so».

Silence fell again. Long instants passed where the only sound that could be heard was the heavy breathing of Javert.

«Javert, I’ve never hated you» Valjean then claimed. All his life, they did nothing but cross paths, never understanding each other fully. Now that he had showed his true emotions, Valjean could say he understood him a bit better, but such a goal had been achieved only after his death and Javert still could not understand him back, and likely he could have never until he lived.

«Such a shame that neither of us attempted to tend a hand to the other until the very end. If things had went a different way, perhaps we could have been friends» he thought «but perhaps we would have never been what we are now».

«When I came back home» Javert said with a thread of voice «For a moment, I thought of taking away my own life. But I couldn’t find the courage» he sobbed again «I can now only wait that disease takes me instead».

«Javert» Chabouillet then declared with resolution in his voice «if you believe I’ll just watch you die, you couldn’t be more wrong. I’ll come over every evening and I’ll make sure you’ll recover».

«Dying would be better, I would be able to repay my debt».

«Javert» the Secretary snapped with a tone that accepted no objections «do you really believe that man would be happy to see you die, after he’s striven so much to save your life twice?». He let out a sigh and his voice mellowed «I can imagine how hard it is, but you should try and-».

In that exact moment, somebody knocked on the door and without Chabouillet giving permission to enter, the landlord reappeared.

«Forgive me,  _ Monsieur le Secrétaire _ , but there’s someone who wants to pay Inspector Javert a visit».

«I told I don’t want to be disturbed» he replied annoyed.

«But,  _ Monsieur _ , the poor girl walked all the way here».

Hearing those words, Javert tried to gain back control.

«Who is she?» he inquired.

« _ Mademoiselle  _ Cosette» Blanchard answered. Javert didn’t hide his surprise and ordered «Let her in».

Cosette entered shy, accompanied by Toussaint, carrying a bouquet of flowers. Chabouillet stood up from the chair «Good evening,  _ Mademoiselle _ . Forgive my lack of manners, but do you happen to know the Inspector?».

«I do» she answered «I came to check how is he feeling».

Valjean didn’t miss the small grin Chabouillet directed at Javert as he turned his head just enough to look at him.

«She brought me home when I fell ill yesterday morning» Javert explained, almost as if he wanted to justify the situation, then turned to Cosette «Weren’t you going to pay a visit to your betrothed?».

Cosette’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. Sooner or later, Valjean told to himself, she would have asked Javert to explain how he came to know Marius.

«Can’t I pay a visit to two ill people in the same day? I had no idea it was forbidden» she said with a giggle that Valjean recognized it was fake. Nonetheless, with a playfully authoritative vibe, she got closer to Javert’s bed with large steps, uncaring of the presence of the Secretary of Police and of Toussaint’s embarrassment, and set down the flowers on the night table. Chabouillet laughed at the whole situation.

«Inspector Javert is so grouchy, so I ask to yours truly» Cosette asked «May I pay his a visit visit him after tonight after I checked on my boyfriend, or is this against the law?».

«You can come whenever you wish» Chabouillet answered «And he thanks you for the flowers».

«Thank you» Javert muttered.

Valjean couldn’t hold back a wistful smile. Cosette surely had walked all the way but she didn’t spare any coin for the flowers.

«I’m so rude, I haven’t even asked how are you feeling!».

« _ Mademoiselle _ , the Inspector will get well, just you see».

Javert looked at her for a long moment. «I will recover» he repeated «don’t worry».

When they both were alone again, he gave this explanation to Chabouillet «I first have robbed her of her mother, and then of her father, I will make sure she won’t be robbed of anything or anyone else. This is my debt».

And so it happened that Chabouillet and Cosette visited him every night, and when one couldn’t the other was already ready to give Javert some company.

With time, he recovered, and Marius too began to gain his forces back.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm kyriefortune on twitter please check it? i have quality content


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